Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

A Souvenir from New York

“Grandson,” he said, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “If only you knew, from how far away I have come to see you! But, as it says in the Torah, if Gotunyu wants something, he can turn night into day and day into night. He wanted this, and here I am. Thank you, Gotynyu, that you have given me a moment of joy in my hour of sorrow!” Grandfather wiped a tear. “I never thought that my grandson would be a doctor in America! Tell it to someone in Krasnopole, they wouldn’t believe it. They will say that Shloyme has lost his mind. I know, grandson, you’re tired today, I came at a wrong time, but I wasn’t the one who chose the time, the time was chosen for me. I’ll stay a little bit and then I’ll be on my way. And you go on with your sleep. I’m not asking you any questions. You are here, this means that our family continues. How happy Etta would have been if she knew that we have a grandson! Every day she talked about you without knowing you. She bought a cow - that’s milk for our grandchildren; we planted an apple tree - apples for our grandchildren! She always nagged me: Shloyme, make a better roof for the house, for we must leave the house in good shape for the grandchildren! As if the grandchildren are already running around the yard. And then there was nothing--no home, no cows, no apple trees. Tell me, did she live long enough to see you, grandson?” “No, Grandpa,” I said quietly. “Dad told me that she had died of typhus in Bukhara. We heard that from

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